Moon Child
by xXLonelySoulXx
Summary: "It's both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply." Her mother used to tell her that emotions are power, but for her, it was nothing more than a poison. She just wanted to be left alone, but The Dark Knight had decided otherwise... (takes place a little before season 1)
1. Girls Night Out

**DISCLAIMER/WARNING : This is a Robin/OC fanfiction. (slow burn) - It's rated T for language, and possible sensitive/triggering topics in the future. Please give this story and my OC time to develop, nothing come in a blink of an eye. I don't own anything except my OC. (sadly) - Enjoy!**

* * *

 _And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"_

 _I can't help this awful energy_

 _God damn right, you should be scared of me_

 _Who is in control?_

 **• Halsey - Control •**

* * *

 **Moon Child**

 **Prologue**

Girls Night Out

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **June 25, 2010**

 **23:17 EDT**

"That's a _very bad_ idea."

The intrepid blonde didn't even bother to look at her, her eyes focused on the group of men arguing lower.

"I count at least ten." She replied as if she hadn't heard the whisper coming from behind.

After an umpteenth look through her pair of binoculars - and an unpleasant sensation of two silver-blue eyes burning holes in the back of her head - she finally turns around, the intense glare diving directly into her nuances of dark grey.

"Don't you _dare_ glare at me like that," she claimed, "You look like Batman. It sent chills down my spine."

"I didn't know that you and the Dark Knight were so close," the petite young girl raised an eyebrow in disbelief, gazing down at the archer well soon back to her observation task. "And how could you even know if Batman glares at you, he wears a mask. Remember." _Duh._

"Believe me. I saw this gaze intended to others these last few weeks. When Batman glares at you, you know it."

She stared at her for a long time before saying, "Arty... you speak like an old lady."

"Roxy... you act like an old lady."

Roxanne slapped her on the arm while insisting on each syllable, the blonde responding immediately with the same gesture. "DON'T _call me_ that." It was kinda childish, but neither of them really cared.

She only uses this surname to get on her nerves. And it worked pretty well, as always.

"I'm not sure that fighting like little kids on the playground is the wisest choice right now. Let's keep that for later, you wanna?" Artemis argued with a tone similar to a mother gently reprimanding her child, a self-satisfied smirk on her face after making her pass so quickly from worry to irritation.

"You know what, you're right. But we should really— "

The blonde suddenly looked her, amused. "Did I heard wrong, or you just say I was right?"

She opened her mouth, ready to continue as if she hadn't been interrupted, but instead shut it into a thin straight line.

Why and how has it come to this, already? Oh yeah, that's right. She was arguing with Artemis Crock, aka the most opinionated, most stubborn, most challenging person she had ever met. _Once again._

All she could remember about this early evening was a blonde tornado loaded with adrenaline passing through her window, quivering and breathing as if she had just run a marathon, a hoodie in the hand. It was rare to see Artemis in such a state. She was usually so calm, confident, sassy... **unshakeable.** A grave. She and she alone decides what and when to share or show something about herself.

Roxanne knew right away that something big was going on. _What a euphemism..._

To be honest, she was still trying to understand how what it was supposed to be a quiet girls night could turn as fast into a ''let's get out and go kick some villain asses'' hunt.

Roxanne was, of course, not necessarily happy with her recent hobby for crimefighting. But on the other hand, it didn't surprise her that much. Artemis has always fiercely proclaimed wanting to trace her own path, the farthest possible from the one chosen by her parents. And what's the biggest opponent of a villain... a hero, obviously.

A nocturnal whim that had gone from dream to reality in a very short time. As soon as her mother came back home, actually...

That's why she couldn't refuse the offer earlier that night. _Not_ after seeing the dark and determinate gleam in her eyes. And _certainly not_ after seeing all these disgusting images scrolled in her mind after having taken the sleeve of the clothes between her pale fingers.

Artemis would NEVER ask her to use her, talents... if she hadn't judged it absolutely necessary. She was the only one who knew how much she hated _it_.

And _this_ was definitely not something unnecessary.

The owner of the hoodie was a piece of puzzle way larger than a usual gang of young thugs, as Artemis had already guessed to have followed him for weeks now...

Human trafficking. Women trafficking, especially. Tones of women kidnapped and sold as vulgar pieces of meat.

She suppressed a wave of persistent nausea to this thought, promptly brought back to reality by the voice of her ally.

"There is movement." She noticed in a whisper while adjusting her binoculars, magnifying the lens so she can see the faces more closely.

This was not the plan.

They were supposed to track and find the bad guy, call the police and wait for their arrival before disappearing. Not to rush without thinking straight ahead. Two stubborn teenage girls against a dozen armed men... _that's foolishness._

So that's why Roxanne was standing here. On the roof of an abandoned warehouse near the docks, still praying for a miracle that would bring Artemis back to reason.

The thing is, she didn't believe in miracles.

And her dear blonde was obviously not about to make her change her mind.

 _Speaking of the devil..._

She knew she didn't even have to watch when she heard Artemis's breath cut. "It's him."

 **Dragos Ibanescu.**

One of Gotham's royal roots. At the head of a small empire as diverse as dogfights, prostitution, _and_ human trafficking.

Her jaw clenched. Not because she was irritated - after all, she was used to the wild temperament of her sister by heart - but because being here seemed _more and more_ like a really bad idea. Especially now that things visibly starting to fester. Angry, loud, male voices filled the fresh silent night, drawing all the attention of the archer who jumped to her feet in a blink of an eye.

It was going to turn to drama. She could _feel it_ in her bones.

"I have a bad feeling."

"We have to—"

She quickly wrapped her hand around Arty's wrist before she could go anywhere else. The intrepid blonde bowed her head, Roxanne's steel gaze cutting her off. "Artemis, don't."

"But—"

Her voice was more confident now, less anxious. "He is surrounded by an army of big armed-monkeys. What do you think you'll do, ask them for forgiveness to clear your way to Dragos before telling him that he is under arrest? That's just sheer insanity." Her stern gaze became softer, and her voice followed suit. "Arty... being a hero is one thing, but committing a suicide mission is another." The blonde had a gold heart, for sure. But she also had the gift of being a burnt head.

She let out a long sigh, her eyelids closing for a second. There were no more jokes anymore... it was serious. Artemis knew that it was incredibly irresponsible and stupid. But she just couldn't help herself.

She opened her eyes to find her concerned face in front of hers, using her affectionate nickname this time. "I know Rox, I listen... truly. And you're right, but... what if we let this dirty sort get arrested before we know if there are girls locked up somewhere around here? It would take days for the cops to make him talk." _And this, if he came to speak._

Roxanne's stomach squeezing at the memory. Among the horrible flashes that had crossed her mind, those of women trapped in what appeared to be a container came back several times - she could still feel their despair in the depths of her belly, floating like bubbles.

The thing was that they couldn't know if these ''visions'' belonged to a past event or something current.

And there was only one way to find out.

"I just—" Artemis quickly shook her head. "...I can't accept that." _She_ c _an't get so close to the goal to leave a doubt like this._

And her ally either.

She was right - Roxanne knew, no matter what, that none of them could live with that. Living with this unanswered question floating in the air, always wondering if they could have done more.

 _Saving lives._ Not just protecting theirs in the first place.

For a moment, they forgot where they were and just stared into each other's eyes.

 **Sisters by heart as partners in crime.** Since their first day at elementary school where Artemis had punched that little devilish boy who gave her miseries - until that night at home where she had come proudly to show her the costume she had designed and created herself.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK – LACROIX'S HOUSE**

Her silver-blue eyes were dancing with amusement as the archer slammed her hands on her hips, her fingertips tapping on her hip bones. "So, what do you think?"

Roxanne ran her hand through the fur of the black Eurasier using her thigh as a pillow, studying her for a long moment.

It was colored in various shades of green and consisted of a mask extending from the hairline to the cheekbones, a sleeveless top with a stylized arrow tip on the front, fingerless gloves, pants with black knee pads, and black combat boots.

She had to admit it, the costume perfectly highlighted her build.

"Well, it's... uh," she answered hesitantly as she looked over the outfits. "Green."

Artemis saw a state of uncertainty in her eyes. Distasteful. Did she really think it looked _that_ bad? But just like that, the uncertainty was gone and she smiled mischievously.

"Come on Arty," A light laugh escaped from her throat. "You're lookin' hella badass."

* * *

 **BACK TO PRESENT – GOTHAM CITY**

She would never have thought that Artemis was so good with needles.

"I know we can do it, you and I," the blonde said fiercely. "Together."

There was no room for doubt.

"Let's cut the cheesiness right away," She muttered with a sigh, back to her feet in defeat. "At least, I would have heard you say once in my life that I was right before I died. Not that bad."

Turning the heels, she glanced back at Roxanne and smiled mischievously. "Don't get used to it."

"Pour l'amour de Dieu." _For God's sake._

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **June 25, 2010**

 **23:25 EDT**

 **Inhale courage, Exhale fear.**

She repeated this in her head, mantra-style, as she gave herself a mental shake.

 _I can do this,_ she thought. _And even if I can't, I have to._

After coming down from the roof and _finally_ called the police, the duo had managed to make their way into the warehouse.

There was no need to have an excellent hearing to notice that the tone climbed the ladder in the negotiation. The man standing in front of Dragos seemed rather unhappy, pointing his finger at the old man's chest - or at least, that's what Roxanne imagined, not close enough to see properly.

When Artemis pivoted, she saw that three large men stood in a row not ten feet away. _It's now or never._ She judged. The growing tension was a perfect diversion.

By measuring the distance between the police station and the docks, they had about ten minutes to act.

The archer flashed to her right, sharing a last look with her ally. They both nod before the archer disappears behind the container.

Roxanne shut her eyes for a moment, letting her head fall against the cool, hard metal behind her as she inhaled softly.

She pushed everything deep inside until the suffocating buzzing was no more than a bearable whistling ; the echo of the loud voices, the feeling of anger hovering in the air, the contagious adrenaline of Artemis that made her legs weak and even her own concerns. She clenches her fists and her eyelids slowly opened - an opaque, cloudy veil now darkened her irises, removing the intense shades of blue normally visible.

 _I'm in control._

" _That was_ **not** the deal!"

Dragos lowered his head to his chest, almost as if he wanted to check if his finger didn't leave a stain on his immaculate white shirt. "Luis, my friend... the deal was that you had to bring me the account for Friday. And the deadlines weren't respected." With a wicked chuckle, he readjusted his tie, his Romanian accent as calm as possible. "So the deal's _off_."

"You have _no idea_ of who I am," snarled Luis. Suddenly, a men bear alike – due to his size and stature - placed himself in front of Dragos, preventing the so-called Luis from approaching again. " **No one** fucks me, geezer! No one." He exclaimed.

Then, two other men approaching the Mexican from behind, the scene comparable to a parade of intimidation as one we could see in the wild when two wolf packs fight for a territory. _Men..._

"What the hell is that?!" All the glances turned around as a mist darker than night slowly creeping through the warehouse, encircled them. Some of Luis brutes passed their hands through the thick mass as if they wanted to make it disappear, _in vain,_ the suffocating darkness gradually separating individuals.

Groans of pain and hits noises came from nowhere as loud Spanish curses filled the air.

Dragos raised an eyebrow, reaching into his left jacket pocket.

Luis had been faster, having already released his loaded revolver. The Mexican was trying to keep in touch with his men, yelling in his native language while his gaze was everywhere, moving fast to find the imminent threat. "El murciélago, ¡disparame ese murciélago!"

 _Of course,_ they were going to think of The Dark Knight, we were in Gotham after all.

He heard an arrow whizzed through the air, and then nothing. Nothing more than the echo of a gunshot resonating in the huge void, quickly followed by the sound of a heavy body crumbling lifeless against the grimy concrete.

Roxanne felt as if she had been hit directly in the chest by Superman.

The painful and oh-so-familiar feeling forced her to go down on bended knee, one hand savagely clutching her heart while the other was resting on the floor, searching for support.

Her ears whistled, eyes blinded by the tears that threatened to spill over. "Oh no... no, no, no... please, please not that _again_."

Her whole body was shaking and she couldn't have a _fucking_ control over it. It almost feels like she had a panic attack, but it wasn't. And for once in her entire life, she would have preferred.

Clenching her jaw, her fingers turned white under pressure. The veil was long gone now, black spots beginning to invade her view and she knew that she would faint if she didn't recover quickly.

She let out a fragile breath as if she finally remembered how to breathe.

" _Breathe,"_ she heard whispering, and she couldn't tell if it was from her subconscious or god knows what else. And to be honest, she didn't care. It was not the time to fall apart. She needed to find Artemis. No... she needed to find her, **alive.** That's all that mattered at the moment. _"Control."_

She forced herself to inhale and exhale several times, minutes scrolling at full speed, being, in reality, a handful of seconds. Freaking painful and endless seconds. The dark spots in front of her eyes slowly faded away as she regained a proper breathing.

Once the sensation was bearable, she just ignored everything else.

With a heave she was up, stumbling in her tentative before stabilizing herself.

She mentally cursed all those action movies that described adrenaline as an invulnerability serum, making you as fast and agile as a cheetah. _Bullshit._ At this moment, she had nothing of a feline. She just looked like Bambi on ice.

Without a second thought, she sank through darknesses she had herself created, embracing them like a second skin.

She adjusted the hood on her head as she followed the din, trusting her instinct while still making sure not to get too close. Leaning against one of the containers, she leaned over to have a better overview.

And that's when she saw _him_.

Dragos stood there, into the darkness, staring blankly at the lifeless body of the Mexican. He still had a lethal grip on the gun now pointing to the ground, his expression deadlier than the weapon.

"Shoot the others," He ordered. "We cannot take the risk of letting one of this rats talk." He turned his head to the man built like a brick shithouse to his left, the others already disappeared into obscurity to execute the orders.

"Respect for ancients isn't what it used to be," A cold smile curved their lips. His attention then returned to Luis's dead body lying at his feet, lingering on the gaping bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. There was no regret, no empathy in his voice. _No emotions,_ at all. "We're outta here."

Roxanne felt a wave of relief overwhelmed her ; soon followed by a hint of guilt. She was relieved to see that it wasn't Artemis's body that was lying there on the floor, but at the same time, she felt bad about being so pleased with the death of a man.

"Well, well, well... look what we have here," Focused on the scene she didn't pay attention, gasping when a strong hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her against the rusty metal. "You're lost, little mouse?"

A rush of panic crossed the body of the young lady as he reached out his other hand to lower the hood way too large for her head.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, stifling with the oppressive aura of intimidation that acted as a vise between their bodies. Flashes invading her mind without her permission and a feeling of pure anger began to grow in her.

" _Don't._ Touch. Me." A mocking laugh escaped the abuser's throat who gave her as much credibility as a kitten sticking out his claws.

It was before he realized that claws could burn. _In the literal sense._

Clenching her teeth, Roxanne squeezed her hand around the wrist that was holding her hostage, a sensation of warmth caressing her pale fingers.

"Motherfucker!" The big man swore by painfully gripping the burn marking his skin, releasing momentarily his grip. And she didn't waste time taking advantage of it.

With a courage she didn't know herself, she forcefully threw a knee that came banging against his crotch, causing him to growl in suffering.

 _It sounds as painful as it says..._ She could not believe it had worked.

"Bitch, you'll pay—"

Fletchings whisper cut him off before he can finish his sentence. Roxanne stepping back as the two arrows pinned him roughly by his clothes, face against the neighboring container.

The feminine silhouette of the archer standing high a few meters away, relaxing her bow before jumping in a hurry to join her.

"Oh my god Rox you okay?!" A hint of panic tinged Artemis's voice, making her aura wobble in all directions. She swore that the grip she had on her shoulder was more deadly than that of Mr. noble language - still trapping like a greedy mouse in a trap at a safe distance now.

The petite girl suddenly embraces her, holding the blonde in her arms for a second before moving away at the speed of a draft.

"I'm good," She expired. "But no time for worries, Dragos is going to flee, we have to intercept him before."

Artemis nodded before arming her arch, leading the way. The archer already knocked out three-fourths of the men present, the rest now engaged in a giant "hide-and-seek-AND-kill" game, gunshots firing from time to time in the air.

"Let's finish this." Roxanne whispered, the dark, cloudy veil reappearing in her eyes, the trembling in her voice now long gone.

The blonde smirked. _It was the last straight line._

Quickly she rolled over, sprang to her feet and stood ready to shoot as the darkness suddenly vanished in front of her, like a flame blown by the wind.

She found herself facing a beefy man's back, leaving him barely time to turn as an arrow whiz toward him, making him drop the gun he was about to point at her.

Kicking him right in the face with her foot, it was not long for the archer to knock him out. They might have been strongly built, without their weapons they clearly couldn't compete with Arty's skills.

The girl hidden under her hood froze as another figure she recognized as that of one of Dragos' henchmen emerged from the shadows, just behind Artemis.

The blonde turned in time to see the man drop his gun and swear out loud, painful redness dyeing his fingers. Hitting him hard, she left him no mercy as his heavy body collapsed against the concrete floor. _Ouch..._

Arty nods at her, a look of determination on her face as her ally smiled lightly.

The two teenage girls ran until the silhouette of Dragos is in sight, the archer stopping abruptly in her race to shoot an arrow in his direction.

When she saw what she presumed to be the bodyguard of the Romanian crimelord fall to the ground, trapped by a net, Roxanne took the opportunity to disappear from the view.

The blonde was soon to do the same after seeing the somber mist wrap around Dragos as a trap, blocking any chance of escape.

Clenching his teeth, the white-haired man took a few steps back.

"Nowhere to run Ibanescu," He froze for a second before starting to smirk at the sound of the female voice coming from above, a vicious grimace distorting his features. "You're trapped like a rat."

He looked up at Artemis who was now standing on top of one of the containers, her bow loaded and ready for action.

"I have to admit," The grin on his lips only grew a little more as he saw the other assailant appear out of the corner of his eye, watching her stop a few feet from him behind his tinted glasses. "You're not the duo I was expecting to see."

 _Seriously, Batman again..._

"Where are the girls." The archer's tone was deadly, not paying attention to his remark.

"I don't see what you're talking about, young lady," He answered, visibly amused. "You should put it before you hurt yourself."

Artemis sent a death stare in his way, the grip on her bow only hardening. One could clearly read contempt in his voice. Roxanne couldn't tell if it was just because he was relieved to not have to face the Dark Knight, or if he was just a misogynist bastard. Surely both, she decided.

Then she paid more attention, his aura becoming thus more and more distinct. The faded colors floated around his body with little vigor. Dark red - _arrogance, tyranny, love of power._ Dark orange - _egocentrism, unstable._ Black - _violence._

Focusing on his chest for a moment, she could see all the colors mix to form a dirty shade of brown. _Lie._ Predictable.

"He lies." It might seem silly to say it out loud since they already all knew the answer, but it was the question that made all the difference. Artemis had asked him where the girls were, in the present moment, and Dragos's lie only confirmed what they feared earlier. There were indeed human beings locked up somewhere, _but where..._

The liar's eyes felt on Roxanne after she spoke for the first time.

She didn't flinch as she could feel his gaze lingering on her body, finally returning to her face carefully hidden behind the thick fabric.

"I presume it's up to you that we owe this little _trick_ ," He grinned, clearly trying to save time. And maybe even play a little mind game. He didn't take the duo seriously. _His mistake._ "Pretty impressive."

"You were asked where the girls were. We will not ask for a third time." Roxanne coldly answered, clearly not in the mood to make conversation. She knew that the police were going to arrive at any minute now, they had to be quick.

"Let me guess," Dragos just dodged the question, again, as if he hadn't heard. "A sister, a best friend _or_... your mama, maybe?"

She froze for a second, which did not escape to the man standing a few meters away from her.

His smile only widened as his tone was deeply mocking now. "Oh, here we are... Am I wrong? A big bad man took your mama and you want her back, _poor_ little baby. But sadly, mama is not going to come home."

Artemis looked away at her ally, rigid and silent, not able to see the dawn of the smirk who was forming on her lips under the hood.

He was so self-confident. She could almost feel pity for him... _almost_. There was no mercy left for his kind. This bastard wanted to play on emotions, trying to enter into her head... _good._ They could be two to play this game, and something told her that he was going to regret knowing what it was like to be inside her mind.

"No, _you're right._ Mama is not going to come home..." Her voice was flat, showing no emotion. "But you neither."

The Romanian raised an eyebrow as if he was defying her.

Intense blue eyes placed their attention on the orange tinted glasses who covered his.

It didn't take long for Dragos to throw them as a harsh burning sensation teased his skin, a sound of broken glass mixing with his swearing.

The action brought a mischievous smile to the lips of the intrepid blonde.

Doubt was long gone. Her sister by heart was built for that, Artemis was _sure_ of it.

"Come on, _don't_ be shy..." Her voice was sassy, and Roxanne could almost feel the confidence emanating from her without even having to look at her. "Show her your eyes."

Rubbing his eyes, he blinked as he could still feel the heat under his palms.

And then she was _there._ Only a step away from him, her figure emerged from the darknesses in which she was hiding.

She looked directly into his eyes, and suddenly he was lost. _The eyes are the windows to the soul._ It couldn't be more right. He was frozen on the spot, unable to look away. And he didn't even have to meet her gaze.

He felt as if the ceiling had fallen on him. _Heavy_ , terribly heavy. It was hard to think, hard to breathe. And that's when he heard them.

Complaints, moans, cries... an unbearable cacophony. The sound of hands striking the cold, rusty metal, begging for help resonating in his mind. Dragos's heart was racing against his ribcage as the feeling of panic began to invade him. And that was just the beginning - suffering, fear, pain, despair, agony... their feelings. It was _their feeling_ that came crashing down on him like a brick wall.

He fell at his feet, his legs no longer supporting him.

A hand tried to cling to the teen girl's foot, but she pushed him away dryly without any regret. Everything he felt, she could _feel it_ too. She needed to feel it herself, in the very depths of her bones to transmit it. It was a torment, but at this point, she didn't care. She felt so many things that she came to feel nothing at all. So many conflicting emotions that she was trying to bury. _The after-effects will come next day..._

"Do you know what we're talking about now," She was starting to feel nauseous, but she passed through it. _How far can a man go down..._ "Do you hear them, these girls that you lock up and sell like animals... don't you _feel_ an ounce of guilt? Of course, you don't, people like you are incapable of _it._ "

Fingers bleached by the pressure clung to his skull like to stop the pain, a guttural groan escaping his throat while the archer remained marble behind her bow. "Make yourself a favor, _speak_."

"You'll hear them until you say it out loud," Roxanne stood there, unperturbed as blood began to flow from the Crimelord's nose. "Where. Are. The. Girls."

Her voice was lethal. She hated having to go so far. And she was sure that Artemis too. But on the other hand... a part of her, deeply buried, didn't.

That's exactly why she hated using that power, she didn't... she didn't want to feel _that_ feeling, _ever_ _again_. And here she was. What kind of person could feel pleasure in making another suffer? Not a good one, _yeah._

She came out of her thoughts to the breathy voice of the man still kneeling in front of her feet. The calm and fun had vanished, replaced by a clear feeling of panic. " _Okay..._ okay! 87! They are... they are in container 87, on the pier... stop this now! Just _fucking_ stop this!"

Roxanne looked up, meeting the gaze of the archer as a silent conversation between them.

"Well, _you see..._ it wasn't that hard." Artemis didn't waste time to shoot her arrow while the distant sound of police sirens was heard, the flashing tip sticking to the metal before another follows just after.

Dragos, now free of the influence, collapsed on the ground while a net imprisoned him, reserving him the same fate as his henchman.

Roxanne turned on her heels, one last look over her shoulder. "See you in hell."

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **June 25, 2010**

 **23:41 EDT**

The footsteps were becoming faster as the two silhouettes running breathlessly, sirens echoing behind them. They turned into an alley once they felt they were far enough, the blonde passing an arm around her ally, avoiding her to collapse on the ground while her legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"You're okay?" The archer asked her, worried. "You're bleeding." She inspected her knee where her jeans had torn, blood covering the milky skin.

"It's just a scratch," she nodded, trying to catch her breath. "Just give me time to... _breathe_ , a little. We're not all Lara Croft here, y'know." Artemis rolled her eyes, gently spreading a few strands of hair escaped from her hood.

And then, just like this, the excitement was back. "We did it, girl, YOU did it! That was amazing!" Her lips mirrored her mood, stretching from hear to hear as she felt excitement running through her veins. Probably the backlash of adrenaline, thought Roxanne.

While Artemis was on the verge of hopping around like a child in front of a candy store, she was ready to collapse to not get up again. _Life was unfair._

"You sure it will work?"

"Of course, the arrow is equipped with a recorder. All that Dragos confessed now resonates in the ears of the cops, with that, he is not about to see the light of day anytime soon." She answered as a matter of course. "And to crown it off, these girls will be saved! It's called a strike, babe." _Not to mention the body..._ this image was going to haunt the smallest girl for a lifetime, and god knows she already had enough in reserve.

She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing of relief. _Good._

She felt drunk in her emotions, there was too much to handle at once. "Don't _babe_ me right now, I still hate you."

"Come on, you _know_ you love me." Artemis didn't stop smiling, quite the opposite, squeezing her a little bit against her side.

Roxanne just rolled her eyes too, letting herself melt against the archer, and in her emotions at the same time, trying not to think too much about what had just happened. Just a few minutes. It couldn't hurt, right?

During their flight, the duo was completely unaware of the two presences in height, watching them disappear in a dark alley of Gotham.

"We don't follow them?"

"No," The man dressed in a black cape looked down at his protégé, emotionless, his face largely hidden by his mask. "All in good time."

* * *

It's the first time that I write a story in English, my mother tongue is French so I apologize in advance for the mistakes.

Reviews are love! ;)

 _\- Loré._


	2. Full Moon

**DISCLAIMER/WARNING : This is a Robin/OC fanfiction. (slow burn) - It's rated T for language, and possible sensitive/triggering topics in the future. Please give this story and my OC time to develop, nothing come in a blink of an eye. I don't own anything except my OC. (sadly) - Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Do you feel safe?_

 _Out in the light_

 _Or is this the place_

 _Where monsters hide?_

 **•** **SVRCINA** **-** **Who Are You?** **•**

* * *

 **Moon Child**

 **Chapter 1**

Full Moon

* * *

 _WARNING:_ There's French in this chapter as it's the mother tongue (and mine, you guessed it) of Roxanne, so the translation follows directly next - **in bold!**

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **June 26, 2010**

 **15:10 EDT**

The little girl pressed her palms against the mangled flesh, having once heard that you were supposed to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on wounds. But, _oh,_ there was so much blood - dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascaded across the woman's skin, right through the child's fingertips. Her stomach felt sick.

Still hot.

Her vision becomes blurrier as her own moans echoed through the void. She was on the verge of hysteria, her chest rising and falling at a furious pace.

A bloody, pale hand came slipping through the mass of ebony hair, desperate to get the dawn of an answer. Her gaze, tinged with tears, froze in confusion as the feminine traits slowly faded, replaced by other ruder ones... those of a man.

 _Luis?_

Silver-blue eyes open suddenly, staring at the ceiling as her heartbeat still resounded harshly in her ears. A trembling hand slipped over the fluffy duvet, looking for a support to straighten up.

She let out a strangled grunt as she sat down, aching all over her body... _gosh, she felt as if she had been hit by a truck._

Thin fingers came slipping into the few rebel strands obstructing her vision, glued to her forehead by sweat.

Blinking twice, Roxanne pushes the tears away while taking the time to look around her.

A fluffy carpet enthroned on the floor next to the bed, some pillows surely fell during the night scattered around it. A white, wooden desk pushed against one of the pale blue walls, covered by a multitude of objects such as candles, books or sheets of scribbled papers. The clothes piled up carelessly on the sofa in the corner, including Artemis's favorite jacket on the top. A slight smell of jasmine floating in the air as the sun's rays were seeping through the half-open window.

She let out a fragile breath as her breathing slowly began to return to normal. That's okay, she was home... she was, **safe.**

She froze feeling the bed move, a huge mass of black fur bounding on it to join her without being invited. She let out a huff as the animal comes to literally lie on her, his wet nose leaning against her belly.

She relaxed as she looked into the wide, curious eyes staring at her, gently petting his head while feeling somewhat silly of her own reaction.

"Je vais bien..." **"I'm good..."** Her voice was weak but soft, not sure if she was trying to reassure the dog or her own self.

She let herself fall back against the pillow, allowing herself to close her eyes for a few moments.

It seemed so real... well, just like each time.

It was months since she hadn't done this dream, in the end she began to know it by heart... always the same scenario, playing again and again in her head, her subconscious mind decided to torture her with images of the past. But this time the end was different, the deceased Mexican's face taking the place of the usual one.

Nothing surprising considering the events of last night... she was certain that the death of this poor man would return to haunt her, and it was done.

Trying not to think too much about it, she comes touching the feathers of the dream catcher that her aunt had offered her for her birthday, hanging over her head. For a moment she really thought it was starting to work...

She felt a slight wave of nausea invade her as the memories came back to the surface. It was time to get up, or else she would lie there thinking until she became sick.

She came to extend her arm, trying to catch her cell phone on the bedside table. A mission proving more complicated than expected when you have a beast of twenty kilos lying on you.

"Carbone, s'il te plaît..." **"Carbone, please..."** Sometimes Carbone tended to forget that she was no longer a puppy. The huge mass of black fur rolled on her side, releasing her, the tongue hanging in the air.

Roxanne smiled tenderly before scratching her belly, using her free hand to retrieve the coveted object.

15:16... **15:16?**

 _She had really slept over thirteen hours, wow..._

Well, once again, not a real surprise. In addition to making her sick as if she had caught flu, too much-absorbed emotions always drained her of all energy. Especially since it had been more than a year now that she had not used her powers... **her powers.**

She pushed back the fluffy duvet with an annoyed backhand, wanting at all costs to avoid delving into her thoughts for the moment. One foot after another, she grimaced before repelling the transparent veil surrounding her bed, taking a few steps towards the dresser. She took some clean clothes in one of the drawers, momentarily crossing her reflection in the mirror.

Gosh... she knew she was going to look horrible, but she didn't think she would look _that_ bad.

Roxanne didn't remember the last time her skin looked so pale... and not a pretty pale like porcelain, no, but a sick kind of pale. Dark circles around her eyes, the piercing blue of usual way too dull for her taste. Not to mention the slight film of sweat covering her face and her neck, reward of her nightmare.

She felt disgusting, both inside and out.

She needed a shower.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **June 26, 2010**

 **16:09 EDT**

The soft creamy carpet absorbed the sounds of her footsteps until she reached the kitchen, then the sound echoed off pale ceramic tiles. Four loud paws were hopping in her back, not releasing her since she came out of the shower.

Roxanne stopped in the middle of the room, her gaze sweeping around the place as the quivering kettle was the only sound in the very quiet house.

Strange...

Standing on tiptoe, she came to grab a cup in one of the cupboards before opening the clear glass jar containing the capsules, digging to find the ones she was looking for.

 _Caramel Latte._

She knew she should avoid caffeine, "especially at her age" but she couldn't resist. She had become hooked since her aunt had offered this devilish machine... once again, blame her and her useless addictive gifts.

And for her defense, there was mostly a lot of milk inside.

She also took out a small box in the closet under the sink, picking some bone-shaped cookies in one of her hands. A slight laugh came through the silence as Carbone was already starting to shake, the head slipped between the petite girl legs to have a better view of the treats.

"D'accord, d'accord," **"Right, right,"** the animal closed its eyes of satisfaction by feeling the hand of his mistress caressing him behind the ears. "regardez qui est plus que contente de m'avoir suivi maintenant." **"look who's more than happy to have followed me now."**

Posing her steaming mug on the coffee table, she winced a little, letting herself fall back onto the couch.

She covered herself with the fluffy plaid folded over the armrest, suppressing a thrill. She was looking for the remote control as Carbone came to nest against her thigh, chewing the treat Roxanne had offered in her open palm.

This silence was going to drive her crazy.

Usually she was not against a bit of calm, quite the contrary... especially considering the fact that it was only very rarely silent in her head. But when she was alone she found herself managing her own emotions, and now it was the worst that could happen.

For a moment she almost wanted to have some company, a presence in the room to not focus on herself... of course, Carbone was there, but even the excitement of her loyal companion was not enough to distract her this time.

"La voilà." _Here it is._

Pressing the power button, she leaned comfortably against the pillows while petting the black dog's neck.

The pale fingers froze in the thick fur, her eyes focused on the screen.

Bloody hell.

Her finger clicked almost frantically, scrolling through the chains, most of them focusing only on one subject. _The arrest of Dragos Ibanescu_. This bastard had become the local star, his decrepit face showing up everywhere as Cat Grant, the gold-haired presenter was telling how one of Gotham's famous crime lords had finally gained his place behind the locks.

Oh, no... that was _bad._

"Même encore pire que tu ne peux l'imaginer, jeune fille." **"Even worse than you can imagine, young lady."**

Careful what you wish for.

Roxanne closed her eyes for a second, lips pursed in a thin line before turning away from the television.

The woman with a severe look stood in her back with a cup of steaming tea in the hands, all in her body language announcing trouble. No need to be an empath to understand that.

"Bonjour à toi aussi..." **"Hello to you, too..."** An ounce of sarcasm was perceptible in her voice, almost stifled by her sigh. She should have known she would not have left without turning off the kettle, obviously.

She received no answer, not even a little remonstrance about her tone. Wow, _really bad._

The teenage girl continued to feed Carbone with treats while the new presence just sat in the sofa sitting at her right, the animal more focused on the snacks than on the tension suddenly filling the room.

"Tu n'as pas quelque chose à me dire?" **"Don't you have something to tell me?"**

Her voice was calm, and the youngest girl knew she was only asking this question to see what she had to answer. She gave her a chance to explain herself, to tell her everything. And this even if she already knew the truth... hard to hide things from a clairvoyant, after all.

Yes, she wasn't the only strange phenomenon in this family.

"Que veux tu que je te dise? Une arrestation parmi tant d'autres à Gotham, rien de bien nouveau." **"What do you want me to say? One arrest among so many others in Gotham, nothing new."** _Chance missed._ Roxanne remained elusive, her eyes crossing that of the older woman without adding anything, hoping deep inside that it would be enough and that it would not go further than that. She didn't want to talk about it.

As if she had the choice.

Silver-blue eyes came back to the television as, oh coincidence, additional information on the arrest was revealed. And for once, we didn't flatter the prowess of the most famous duo in town.

" _You heard right. For the first time in a while, someone came before the Dark Knight. Dragos Ibanescu remained, according to the police officers, in a hysterical state several hours after his arrest… describing his attacker, as a demon come straight from hell."_

A strange feeling crept into her, the words resonating in her mind like a vicious melody. So, it was the way she was perceived... a demon.

The perception we had of ourselves was one thing, but to hear it from someone else was… something.

"Roxanne."

The teenager came out of her thoughts, looking away at the voice. She swallowed the ball beginning to form in her throat, scratching the dog now lying on her lap behind the ears. Carbone had easily felt her mood change, as always.

Before she could even think of an answer to give, the front door burst open.

"Can you believe that?! Oh my god, it's all on the news girl! You know what? Batman and Robin can take some vacancies 'cause the new Gotham duo here KILLS every—"

Artemis burst into the living room - more excited than ever - stopping abruptly as she slowed down, her eyes drifting from Roxanne to the older woman who was taking a sip of her tea.

"—thing."

The petite girl turned slightly to meet her partner's gaze, a single brilliant expression in her irises. _Busted._

Bad timing, Arty.

The expression on the blonde's face was priceless, and if she was in a different situation Roxanne would probably have taken a picture. But that was not the right time for that, oh no...

"I mean... did you see that? A new vigilante in Gotham, wow... that's so, exciting. Right."

The older woman kept a placid face while the blue-eyed girl not far from her restrained herself from rolling her eyes. _Artemis was such a bad liar, gosh..._

The archer bit the inside of her jaw as a slight smile came to light her face, feeling the storm coming in the air. "Agnès."

"Artemis," Agnès put her cup on the coffee table next to the other, coming to cross her hands on her belly while watching the newcomer nervously playing with her fingers. "you forgot something, maybe?"

The blonde's face lit up as you could almost see a light bulb emerge above her head as in cartoons, her gaze returning from time to time to her ally who was almost begging her with her eyes for a little help.

"Yeah! My, jacket. I forgot my Jacket, last night... can I go pick it?" Okay, not the help she was hoping for.

"Of course, make yourself at home."

Roxanne glared at her as she glanced in her direction before disappearing upstairs, climbing the stairs two by two. _Wow..._

Batman would never have left Robin.

Tragic.

Roxanne sighed once again, the head resting against the back of the sofa, ready to face her judgment. "Je suis seule dans cette galère maintenant..." **"I'm alone in this now..."**

"Oh oui, tu l'es." **"Oh yes, you are."**

The amusing side of the situation had disappeared with Artemis as the teenager straightened up, burying her hands in the thick fur of the animal still lying on her.

"Écoutes, je sais que tu es en colère contre moi parce que j'ai utilisé mes pouvoirs... mais ne sois pas en colère contre Arty, s'il te plaît, j'ai décidé toute seule comme une grande fille et—" **"Listen, I know you're mad at me because I've used my powers... but don't be mad at Arty, please, I've decided on my own like a big girl and—"**

"Je ne suis pas en colère parce que tu as utilisé tes pouvoirs, ma chérie." **"I'm not angry because you used your powers, sweetheart,"** the empath frowned a little, listening without cutting her although the urge was strong. _She should be._ "Je suis en colère parce que tu t'es mise en danger, et ce sans même m'en parler." **"I'm angry because you put yourself in danger, without even telling me about it."**

Agnès stared at her granddaughter lounging on the couch in a dramatic way, an exaggerated sigh escaping her lips this time as Carbone straightened to not slide, her mistress's thighs now hanging in the air. "S'te plaît, mamie... comme si tu ne l'avais pas vu venir." **"Please, grandma... as if you hadn't seen it coming."**

"Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça?!" **"What is that?!"**

Roxanne lifted her chin to follow her gaze, her grandmother coming to grab her leg to examine the ugly reddish wound on her knee.

"Juste une égratinure…" **"Just a scratch..."**

She looked at the wound a few more moments before disappearing, coming back to sit next to her while stalling her leg on hers. The petite girl winced a little at the sensation of the disinfectant, the cotton brushing her skin removing the blood newly formed after her shower.

Agnès finally put a band-aid on it, and this time it was her turn to sigh. "Tu sais mieux que personne que ça n'est pas une science exacte." **"You know better than anyone that this is not an exact science."**

"Donc... tu ne savais pas?" **"So... you didn't know?"**

The older woman consciously presses her fingers against the band-aid, a loud "aïe" echoing in the living room.

"Bien sûr que je savais," **"Of course I knew,"** Roxanne made an exaggerated pout while her faithful companion curiously sniffed the bandage, watching her grandmother gently petting his head. "ce n'est pas à un vieux singe qu'on apprend à faire la grimace, ma chère, et surtout... dis à Artemis de ne pas claquer la fenêtre la prochaine fois. Tu sais pourtant que j'ai le sommeil léger." **"can't teach an old dog new tricks, my dear, and above all... tell Artemis not to slam the window next time. You know, though, that I'm a light sleeper."**

Obviously.

"Ne t'en fais pas, ça ne risque pas de se reproduire..." **"Don't worry, it won't happen again..."**

This time it was the turn of Agnès wanting to interrupt, but she didn't give her the time, pursuing without delay to clarify things. "C'était un cas unique, Arty avait besoin de mon aide et comme tu as pu voir c'était nécessaire... ça s'arrête là, Dragos va se retrouver derrière les barreaux pour un bon moment. Mission accomplie, tout revient à la normale." **"That was a unique case, Arty needed my help and as you could see it was necessary... it stops there, Dragos will be behind bars for a good while. Mission accomplished, everything returns to normal."**

Agnès looked at her granddaughter in silence, not missing her much paler look than usual. Logic would like her to continue to reprimand her, to teach her the lesson of how irresponsible she was to go out like this, with Artemis, to tackle one of the most dangerous crime lords in the city.

But in the end, it was useless.

Roxanne might have been only fifteen, she was unusually mature for her age... and she already knew all that. After more than a year without actually using her powers, she hadn't hesitated to jump into the lion's den.

She didn't doubt that it was for a good reason, and not just to please her ally. Artemis had already suggested her a thousand times this kind of "trips" in the streets of Gotham, but she had always refused... this time was a rare exception, she supposed. And in a sense, she was proud of her granddaughter. Of what the _two girls_ had accomplished. It was not anything…

A decision with serious consequences judging not only the appearance but the state of mind of the teenager.

A decision that would surely catch the attention of some people... she had already _seen it._

She also knew it was not the best time for questions. The blue-eyed girl was stubborn, and way more secretive _since..._ well. But in the end, she always ended up coming back to her. And Agnès hoped that this time wouldn't be an exception.

"Bien," **"Fine,"** the wise woman got up from the couch after resting the teenager's leg carefully on the edge of the coffee table. "Mais plus de secrets... ou tu sera privée de sortie." **"But no more secrets... or you will be grounded."**

Roxanne chuckled slightly at that.

Grounded someone who never goes out, how funny.

She doesn't laugh long when she sees her grandmother picking up her cup, gazing in her direction one last time before heading to the kitchen. "Pas de caféine pour toi, tu as déjà l'air d'un zombie." **"No caffeine for you, you already look like a zombie."**

She dropped back against the cushions again, pouting childishly without giving any answer as her hand was smoothing the dense fur of the big dog now asleep against her.

"I hope you at least got your jacket back."

A few seconds passed before the blonde came to sit by her side, silent, a strange expression breathing guilt stretching her features.

"... I did."

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **July 13, 2010**

 **23:37 EDT**

Roxanne raised her chin to the sky, the sound of lightning growling dangerously over her head. Taking a deep breath, she smiles a little, burying her hands in the pockets of her waistcoat.

 _She liked the storm._ She liked to feel the wind rising, flattering her face and stroking her hair. She liked to hear the lightning roar, sparks of light through the dark clouds, almost as a sign of anger from the Gods. The wild and uncontrollable power of mother nature.

When she was a child, her mother used to tell her that when the thunder was resounding, it was because the angels were playing bowling.

It was a lovely way to reassure a little girl who was supposed to be scared, but she wasn't. **She had never been.** Neither thunder, nor dark. Not as other children usually were. A memory comes back to her mind, the one of a child asking her mother why the monsters were hiding in the shadows... were they scared?

What irony.

When you're a child, you're made to believe that monsters are hidden in the darkness... when in reality, once grown, you discover that they live close to you, in the full light.

She has always been like that... special. Or a **freak** , like the other children used to say.

But this difference had never bothered her before, quite the contrary... until infantile naivety vanishes, and she discovers the true side of what she truly was, _inside._ The danger she could represent. The little girl had a different view of this world, where everything was only light, dream and magic. The teenager knew it was something else... something dark, nightmarish and very real.

"Carbone!" The huge black dog sniffing the grass revealed his head to his mistress, not long to run in her direction, still excited about his usual night walk. "Allez viens, on rentre... avant qu'on se fasse attaquer par un loup-garou." **"Come on, let's go... before we get attacked by a werewolf."**

It was the full moon tonight.

All the phenomena were outside... as it says.

The sound of her black boots was treading the earth as she headed for the exit of the park, her faithful companion on the heels.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice the silhouette appearing at full speed in the turn of the alley, stiffening when she came and hit her hard, causing her to lose her balance.

Large hands reached out and took a hold of her arms, catching her before she hit the concrete floor.

"Wow, I'm sorry! Are you okay?! I didn't pay attention to where I was going, totally my fault. I should be more careful, really sorry."

Roxanne unconsciously held her breath at the sudden proximity, raising her eyes to her aggressor-savior.

A young man, not much older than her, which sported a sincere glimmer of worry in his hazel eyes. And who was close, _way too close._ She didn't like hands on her to begin with, unless they had the same blood as her own running through their veins - or if these hands belonged to Artemis. The blonde girl was the only exception here. To feel this stranger... _this man,_ so close to her, his hands clinging to the thin fabric of her waistcoat, gave her a furious desire to grin.

At least he didn't touch her skin, **thank god.**

With all the courtesy that was left in reserve, she disengaged from his embrace, a contrite smile stretching her pursed lips.

"No harm was done."

"No, really. I... I'm a fool. I was in a hurry, I turned without even looking and—"

"Yes, really," she cut him off before he could finish what promised to be endless excuses, tugging on her sleeves to cover her hands after carefully slipping the few strands of hair slipped out of her hood, to the away from prying eyes. "I'm okay, you're okay. That's it, it was just an accident."

She just wanted this altercation to end, so she could peacefully come back home. But she was obviously the only one.

The stranger in question reopen his mouth as to argue again but visibly changed his mind, giving a false joy to the teenage girl who thought quickly get rid of him when he chose instead to extend his hand, a charming smile on the lips.

It was getting worse and worse.

"Andrew. My last, and very sincere apologies."

She saw him slightly frowning as she pulled the hood over the top of her head, cover herself a little more though his smile didn't fade. He must have been wondering what kind of person wore a thick waistcoat in the middle of July with a temperature exceeding eighty-six degrees... yeah, **definitely** **a freak.**

Before she could even think of an excuse to avoid having to shake his hand, she felt a thick mass of fur curl protective against her thigh. Carbone began to grunt dangerously towards the alleged Andrew, the guy apparently too close to his mistress to his taste.

Roxanne silently thanked the animal as she ran her fingers through his neckline, the young man facing them holding his hands up in self-defense. "Wow, my bad! Hi buddy, I hadn't seen you there."

The teenager relaxed a little to the sensation of soft fur stroking her fingers, a little surprised by feeling the grunts of the dog redoubling intensity tickle her leg.

Carbone has always been very protective with her, but she could feel it at the way her neck muscles contracted under her touch, the animal's eyes always pointing towards Andrew. _Something was wrong._ And just like this, his voice came ringing again, almost as if he knew what went through her mind.

"I have cats. Like, _a lot_ of cats. I can bet that he can smell them on me."

The petite girl frowned a little while focusing, inspecting him for a few seconds. No particular color surrounding his body. Well, this was not really suspicious. It had already happened to her before, to not be able to read an aura. Or even that some people practice channeling it and thus to hide it more easily. Consciously, by witchcraft, or unconsciously, by simple meditation. Without even knowing it.

A perfect control of emotions.

A symbiosis.

Or maybe the problem came from her? She had virtually _any_ confidence in her abilities... and rightly so. And yet, despite all that, her paranoia was dangerously coming back to the surface as her hand was massaging the head of the angry black dog.

"Hurry."

"I beg your pardon?" The young man looked at her, or at least the profile of her face left visible by her hood, confused by her words.

"You said, you were in a hurry."

The blue of her irises was piercing, trying to pass through the invisible barrier that prevented her from confirming - as to deny - her interrogations, not even flinching when he started backing up.

"Right! True. I must go, I... see you soon, maybe? Have a good night, you two!" The words followed one another with haste as he walked away trotting along, making one last sign of the hand before disappearing into the shadows.

 _Okay,_ it was definitely strange... and she knew what she was talking about.

Before she can become even more paranoid about this sudden encounter, her ears began to buzz, almost to the point of becoming deaf.

Her gaze drifted down to her hands, her trembling palms now pointing to the sky as a feeling of imminent panic overwhelmed her. It felt as if things were idling. She looked around, expecting to find someone nearby, but there was nobody.

It didn't make sense.

The sensations were too strong. And she could tell it wasn't coming from her, she knew how to make the difference now - between her own emotions and those of someone else. So... how?

Her attention immediately returned to Carbone when the dog began to bark, waving on the spot as if he was ready to launch, gaze pointed towards one of the paths of the park.

A second passed before the words came out of the teenager's mouth almost unconsciously, the animal not waiting any longer to start running as the sound of thunder began to reason more clearly over their heads. "Guide moi." **"Guide me."**

Roxanne's heart was pounding sharply in her chest, going up the earthy paths behind her loyal companion, trying her best to hold the pace. The wind was pushing harder than before on her back as she tried to find her bearings, the sense of urgency getting stronger as she crossed the park exit, now finding herself running down the dark alleys of Gotham.

The petite girl came to a sudden stop in her race as she saw the dog freeze a few steps away, stumbling almost because of her speed.

Forgetting that she was now standing in a narrow, dark alley in the middle of nowhere when it was almost midnight, she concentrated on finding what she was looking for, eventually hearing stifled sobs mixed with obscure laughter.

She didn't even need to see what was happening, she already _knew it._ She had already felt it herself, this particular feeling of fear and helplessness... praying to the sky, or god knows what that it was nothing but a bad dream of which we would end up waking up. But it wasn't.

The scene in front of her was perfectly real, taking place only a few feet away as she slipped as silently as possible against the cold bricks.

A woman in her twenties was trapped against a wall, surrounded by three men standing there like predators surrounding their prey, almost like wolves ready to devour an innocent doe. Although Roxanne would have thought it shameful to call these "men" wolves... these animals were way too noble.

One of them held a knife in his hand, slipped under his victim's throat while the other pulled dangerously on the thin fabric of her white shirt. He was stripping her shoulder little by little, having fun playing with the distress of the redhead.

An unhealthy smirk stretched his lips as one of his acolytes searched carelessly in what she quickly guessed to be the young woman's handbag, totally insensitive to the tears that flowed uncontrollably on her cheeks, fear paralyzing her to the point of no longer being able to scream.

Her nails came crashing into the soft flesh of her palms, almost to the blood as she tried to ignore her own thoughts mingling with the external feelings already impregnated through her skin. Pushing even deeper those she couldn't avoid now, a sickening lust smell floating in the air, she opened her eyes to look at Carbone snuggled against her thigh, the big eyes of the animal already immersed in hers.

As a silent talk.

"Well, well, well... look what we have here, thirty dollars and some girly shit. What a disappointment," the man who didn't even bother to hide his face exchanged a look with the one on his right, throwing the handbag on the floor like a common waste. "How do you plan to arrange that sweetheart, hm? I'm sure you don't want to let my buddies and I disappointed… right?"

Roxanne fought against the urge to roll her eyes, gradually calming her breathing instead. _Stupid pork._

The three bastards giggled at the same time while the one holding the knife fired savagely at the tissue still trapped in his grip, physically clarifying the insinuations of his accomplice while a tearing sound followed by a sob echoed in the void.

The silence was agony as the red-haired woman felt the fresh night air burning the pale skin of her breast, in the same way as the sobs stuck in her throat was on the verge to suffocate her. Her eyes were closed almost as fast as her bra was exposed, waiting to suffer the cruel fate that awaited her for taking such a bad decision. The wrong decision to be stupid enough to believe that she could go home without any trouble, at this time of night, while passing by one of the sleaziest corners of this city. We always think that it only happens to others...

Before she can continue to punish herself unfairly for the actions of others, a kind of murmur - or more like a slight sizzle caught her attention, breaking the agonizing silence and reminding her of what a meat that would have just started to cook could sounds. A strange sequel to the waitress profession. The unexpected sound was quickly followed by a low roar which made her startle, her body already trembling uncontrollably against the cold bricks, not even noticing the blade one who hits the floor at the same time.

Curiosity came to mingle with fear, but she refused to open her eyes. She couldn't.

Her eyelids closed more painfully when animal growls reached his ears, vibrating dangerously as lightning thundered among the gray clouds. Holding one's breath for too long, she let out a febrile breath as soon as she felt the body of her assailant coming off of hers.

Time seemed to be running horribly slowly, and yet. A few seconds were enough to completely reverse the situation. She began to realize when she heard the scare in _his_ voice... the same voice that seemed so dominant, cold and full of power a few seconds ago.

There was a change in the air, and not just because of the storm that seemed to be rising.

Still leaning against the wall behind her back, her legs flailing, she gathered all her courage to finally open her eyes, first staying focused on the blade enthroned at her feet.

 _Oh gosh..._

Once she realized that the blade, just as its owner was no longer able to touch her, everything went extremely fast.

She turned her head abruptly, slightly scratching her head against the hard brick, her fists turning white under pressure as the thought of wondering if she was actually dead going through her mind. _It was hell._

Lost in her thoughts she hadn't noticed the thick haze that had now invaded the alley, threatening to swallow and make disappear the three guys which had, in the meantime, become closer to each other.

She froze when a strong roar staggered one of them back, his ass hitting the ground heavily.

But that was nothing compared to what was hidden in the shadows...

A. Freaking. **Beast.**

It was the only adjective that came when she saw the huge figure that could be guessed through the dark mass creeping around, the only thing very distinct from her place being the black fur and... an imposing mouth with unusually long, large fangs. From her memory, she had never seen such an animal before. Even in the wildlife documentaries she sometimes watched on TV, the weekend on her couch, while dozing comfortably.

This... _thing,_ was at least three times bigger than her. It was impossible.

And the vision seemed even worse for them, while stupefaction gave way to pure fright.

Pathetic complaints came to join the rumblings and the thunder who let out its anger, the guy already on the ground crawled miserably to try to get up, clutching the leg of his tetanized accomplice. But the real torture was directed at the knife-man, who was frozen on the spot, motionless, wide-eyed as stuck in the middle of a nightmare. His chest was rising and coming down at a quick pace, his breath coming out of his half-opened lips as the head of the beast was getting closer to him.

He stumbled backward when the jaw who was now a few inches from his face snapped shut, cold sweat running down his neck. His skull hit the ground, hard, making his vision blurry long enough for him to avoid noticing that his _so-called buddies_ were already away. Running like rabbits without a single look back.

Instinct took over as his whole body stiffened, paws as big as his head coming to rest on each side of his shoulders. His vision was still murky when he closed his eyes, scratchy fur brushing his cheek while undergoing the same fate he had inflicted a few minutes ago on the redhead, trembling under the living, flesh cage.

"Tell me..." No higher than a whisper, and yet the voice buzzed _so loud_ in his ears. "How it feels, to _become_ the prey?"

He could feel the heavy breath of the animal caressing his skin, the grunts so close to him at this moment that they echoed deep in his knotted stomach. "Do you know, _now..._ how it feels like." Stars danced behind his eyelids as the flood of emotions that invaded him kept his being paralyzed, at the mercy of the animal - and the person who seemed to control him.

A single, pitiful sob crosses his lips when a drop of drool comes down on his forehead.

Pathetic, _she thought._

Roxanne was now the one bending over the terrified man, focusing on his closed eyes behind her hood. And just like that, he had no other choice. His gaze opened on the black figure now leaning over him.

 **It felt like drowning.** Too much to feel. Too much to think. Not enough air to breathe. All starting to darken, little by little... one word: agony.

"I'm in your head now... no chance to escape," her tone was low. A chilling whisper solemnly pronounced as a promise, the petite girl as reassured as surprised by the fact that her voice wasn't trembling under the oppression of feelings that burned inside of her. "If you or any of your _friends_ ever try to do something like that again... believe me, I'll know. And **we** will come for you. Got it?"

The coward just nodded frantically after the beast began to growl again, way too close to his ear. Fear was the strongest emotion of all, a proven fact when he didn't waste time to fly off - and this after a few miserable attempts rushed to get up.

Her blood was still boiling as she watched him disappear from her field of vision. A small voice inside her head whispering to her that she should have just let Carbone eat him alive... _but damn,_ she wouldn't let her faithful companion eat such a piece of shit.

Taking a deep breath, she silenced all the words that kept saying that she had made the wrong choice and reasoned herself to bring things back as they were. Opening her eyes an umpteenth time tonight after a few seconds of meditation, the fog had dissipated, and she looked down at Carbone before petting her head gently.

 _It wasn't over..._

She swallowed hard, taking a few steps towards the young woman still dumbfounded and shocked by what were surely the most traumatic minutes of her life. She stopped a few feet from her, wanting to keep a safe distance to frighten her more than she already was.

"Can you stand up?" The redhead who was now sitting on the ground didn't respond, staring vacantly into space.

Despite her soft voice, her question could seem incredibly rough. But it wasn't.

Roxanne wasn't going to ask her the usual, and _so_ cliché "Are you okay?" which was unavoidable in such situations, because she already knew the answer. Obviously, she wasn't **okay.**

Leaving her a moment, the teenager knelt in front of her, Carbone in her back. She took a deep breath before lowering the closure of her waistcoat, lowering her head when the strands of white hair came tumbling down her cheeks.

"You should put that." The woman jumped as she finally seemed to be aware of the new presence, her eyes passing between the petite girl and the garment tended in her direction.

She hesitated unsurprisingly, but eventually put it on as quickly as her trembling fingers allowed her, not sure how to react in front of her… savior?

Her mind was clearly going in all directions as the white head consciously reached out for her, don't give a damn of the inconvenience it could cause her if she would actually accept her hand.

The brown eyes stooped to look at the pale, small hand stretched over her knee. She took time to detail each of the many rings adorning the delicate fingers, noticing the crescent red marks squeezed into each of the two palms; and then, the dark blue nail polish on the mid-long nails who had certainly caused them. "It's gonna be okay, _trust me._ "

Roxanne wasn't sure if it was just the adrenaline rush, or if she had enough confidence to believe in her words, but she held her breath when she let out a single sob - frail fingers catching hers with a deadly grip.

The flow of energy was stifling. But she accepted it without complaint.

Her own shaking fingers gently squeezed her bare hand, refusing to look up for a while but slowly resigned herself, knowing that she couldn't escape it.

She wasn't prepared for the wave that came crashing down on her when their eyes met, the face of the stranger getting scrambled under the tears threatening to spill. It was her turn to struggle to stay on the surface, dealing with a gratitude almost as stifling as the relief hidden underneath.

Her mind cried out to fight, to protect herself from any external energy, that it was already difficult enough to do with her own to absorb more of it... but, for once in a long time, she let her guard down to the feeling of heat slowly seeping into her chest.

It was... magical.

As if she could finally get her head out of the water, finding the air she desperately needed.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt _so_ calm, even for a few seconds. The last time she hadn't been afraid to touch someone, _even_ a bit. It was like pressing a magic break button, the heat radiating through her body.

She blinked a little as the softly whispered words echoed the feelings already invading her, a tiny, but sincere smile coming to her lips as a silent answer. "Thank you..."

Roxanne helped her up, watching the redhead caress Carbone's head after a brief hesitation, the animal coiled around her leg in support.

Well, this has been one hell of a night.

 _Or rather the beginning of it._

She _felt_ him before hearing him.

The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, still facing the young woman who now had her eyes fixed on the dark and intimidating figure standing a few meters away.

The hand still clutching her own tightened its grip, an unconscious gesture as the slightest trace of serenity had now left the teenager, swept suddenly like a leaf swept by the wind to be replaced by a growing sense of panic.

"Seems like it's time for us to officially met," his voice was neutral, intimidating without even trying to be. In the image of the man to whom she belonged, and who was now staring at the back of the white head behind his mask, the sound of his cape, frightened by the storm, joining those of lightning roared in the sky.

 **It was her turn to face a nightmare.**

* * *

Wow, sorry for the wait guys! This chapter focuses a little more on Roxanne and her family, I wanted you to see a little more about her! Hope you enjoyed it, and that you're not too angry 'cause of this little cliffhanger... *wink*

For both guests, first of all - thanks for your reviews! It's always a pleasure to know the thoughts and theories of the readers. ;)

About Artemis, I'm sorry to hear that you found her kinda OCC in this first chapter. Everyone has their own vision of the characters and I try as best as I can to respect their personality, and what they are by trusting my own feelings. I see Artemis as a burnt head with a golden heart, which is very strong but can also be vulnerable when she wants to. Hope you'll like her better in the next chapters!

About Roxanne relations, I don't want to say too much for the moment. But we'll see more about it very soon, especially with the team... can't wait to read what you'll think of it, haha!

Then, about the OC/Robin pairing... it's very important for me to clarify the situation here.

This story isn't going to be "Robin & Roxanne's love story" but "Roxanne's story" - it's NOT going to turn around a potential romance between these two, it's going to talk about my character's story. Her past, her future, her relationships with the characters (the team, her family and way more) and how she will evolve in this universe, aka the season 1 of Young Justice.

I know that Robin/OC stories are very popular, that there are many already, but I really hope that, with the next chapters, you will not think that it's gonna "taking away some uniqueness" from my story, as you say. And if it deters you from reading my story, I'm really sorry.

And obviously, a huge thanks to all the "favs" and "follows" - reviews are love! :)

 _\- Loré._


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